


Sweetheart

by elii



Series: Cyberpunk 2077 ft. trans man V [4]
Category: Cyberpunk 2077 (Video Game)
Genre: Dirty Talk, Face Slapping, Hair-pulling, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, Past Drug Use, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rough Sex, Spanking, Trans Male Character, Trans Male V, Trans V, hella sex with a dash of feelings to taste
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-11
Updated: 2021-01-11
Packaged: 2021-03-15 23:22:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28696899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elii/pseuds/elii
Summary: “Hey now,” Johnny’s voice floats into the air in an uncharacteristically gentle way, but that doesn’t keep V from flinching when he feels the soft tap of a finger against his temple. “Gotta keep those eyes open for me, sweetheart.”V inhales sharply through his nose and exhales slowly through parted lips. Something great swells inside his chest, puffing up on Johnny’s sweet words like a greedy balloon. He knows if Johnny keeps talking to him all nice, that balloon's bound to pop. V’s already fucked in the head as it is, the last thing he needs is a busted heart too.When V’s eyes open, he catches the ghost of a smile on Johnny’s lips. He swallows as he feels his cheeks start to heat up.“Ah, you like that, don’t you. Wanna be my sweetheart?”
Relationships: Johnny Silverhand/Male V, Johnny Silverhand/V
Series: Cyberpunk 2077 ft. trans man V [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2066223
Comments: 10
Kudos: 101





	Sweetheart

“I asked her ‘bout you.”

Johnny doesn’t spare him a second glance, going back to his cigarette instead. But V doesn’t look away. He can’t, he’s transfixed. Popped a few pills of Sin he found rolling around in one of his moving boxes, stowed neatly and kept fresh in an old metal pill cylinder from his junkie days. He had a few more cases hiding somewhere, a little treat for whenever he found them. 

“I’m in your head, y’know.” Johnny’s blowing smoke at V’s face, smirking when V doesn’t bother to wave it away. “24/7. All the fuckin’ time. No need to tell me ‘bout your day.”

“She called you arrogant, stubborn, volatile.” V counts the words off, using his fingers for emphasis. “Said you’d burn down half of the city just to prove a point, then burn the rest for the hell of it.” V spreads his legs as he speaks, hands smoothing over his worn jeans. His thumb chases the seam up and down his inner thigh. 

Sin typically works in three ways, as an uninhibitor, an aphrodisiac, and an antidepressant. If V squints, he can still feel the last dregs of it working their way out of his system. It’s been more than ten hours since he took them, and he isn’t feeling an explicit urge to pop s’more, which is really the best outcome in this situation. But still, he can’t help but miss the feeling of when it first kicks in. Lust coating his insides in a delicious pink glaze, numbing the screaming anxiety in his head and making him see the world through rosy eyes. 

“And here I was thinkin’ Rogue didn’t speak ill of the dead.” Johnny’s staring at him now, or at least looking in his direction. It’s too hard to tell where Johnny’s actually looking half of the time, his dark aviators adding a level of mystery that usually just led to V feeling irked.

Now he was just curious. Curious, and a little… something else. It was hard to place. Didn’t people say that eyes were the windows to the soul? V licks his lips and leans forward, reaching out to knock Johnny’s glasses off his face. There’s no clatter when they hit the floor, only a little fizzle as they glitch into non-existence.

“Whatcha tryna hide, Johnny?”

Johnny’s eyes meet his own, and V finds himself swallowing against the sudden dryness in his throat. It’s intense, enough to make V want to look away. But Johnny’s grabbed his wrist now and V knows there’s no use fighting against it. There isn’t a single place that he would be able to hide, nowhere he could run off too that Johnny couldn’t find. Can’t escape what’s inside you, can’t escape your own mind. 

“You in a mood?” Johnny’s voice is dark and dripping like molasses in a way that makes V wanna lick the words out his mouth. “Or just lookin’ for trouble?”

“Both.” V exhales, tugging his wrist back towards himself half-heartedly. It doesn’t make a difference- he’s right where he wants to be and Johnny knows it. Any struggle he puts up is purely for show. “Wanna get roughed up.” 

“You get plenty'a that in your day job.” The corners of V’s lips tug into a smirk. Johnny isn’t brushing him off, isn’t telling him no. If anything Johnny’s giving him a way out before he really starts running his mouth. So V pushes, stroking the tattooed skin on Johnny’s inner wrist, tracing the outline of his veins. Johnny doesn’t have a pulse, and V has to fight the urge to pull away right then and there. It’s an easy urge to disregard- an ounce of logic tells him that it would be stranger if he actually had a pulse- why would anyone bother with conjuring up imaginary blood? It’s not like Johnny needs it. 

It’s not real, V knows it’s not real. None of this is real, at least in any tangible form. But thinking like that makes him feel funny, makes his heart seize up like someone’s got a mean grip on it. He pushes away the thoughts with ease, aided by his stupid feelings for Johnny. 

“Sure, but not by you. Not in the way I’m talkin’ about.”

Johnny’s cigarette is lost to the floor as he pulls V forward, his face giving away nothing but nonchalance. V settles on his lap like he was made for it, straddling Johnny with a leg on either side of his hips and his hands resting on his chest. He’s comfortable with Johnny now, trusting even. It’s not smart, of course. ‘Specially when Johnny’s grinning at him, teeth filed sharp by the promise of danger on his tongue. 

V blames the drug, even though realistically it’s out of his system by now. Fuck, he doesn’t even need an aphrodisiac to feel the symptoms it provides. One look at Johnny is all it takes for his belly to heat up and his thighs to clench together with want. It’s lust, plain and simple and more of a rush than any type of pill he’s ever popped. Lust wasn’t the most deadly of sins, and certainly not the worst V’s ever committed, but he knew that he’d end up paying for it all the same.

“You know what you’re askin’ for?” Johnny’s holding his hip now, squeezing V through his track pants. 

“Fuckin’ A.” V lets a lazy grin spread across his lips. “Gimme your worst.”

The slap is unexpected, enough to make V’s eyes widen and his hands push down on Johnny’s shoulders to steady himself. 

Johnny’s metal hand darts out, seizing V by the back of his hair. The grip tightens as he pulls V down, tugging his head back until V winces, his back arching with the force of it. He relents after a few moments, letting V move back into his previous position before striking him with the back of his hand, splitting open V’s lip. After consideration, Johnny hits him again with his palm. V swears, his face stinging as he tries to pull back. But Johnny’s fist is relentless, holding V’s head in place and forcing him to scrabble at his chest to stay steady. 

“You  _ really  _ know what you’re askin’ for?” Johnny asks again. V only nods this time, his eyes already starting to prickle. God, he needs this. He needs this more than anything. “Use your fuckin’ words, V.”

“Yeah,” He mumbles, his words dripping with blood and want. “Yeah Johnny, c’mon.” Johnny raises his brow. It’s not skeptical, but it doesn't reek of confidence either. V’s red eyes narrow, shooting Johnny a glare. “You’re in my fuckin’ mind, Silverhand. You know I’m good.”

V’s snark is all it takes for Johnny to secede- pushing V off his lap and onto the floor. V’s knees buckle automatically, and he shuts his eyes as they smack against the floor. He’s only had Johnny in his mouth once before, and even he will admit that the five minutes of throat fucking wasn’t a great showcase of his skills. He blamed Johnny for it, the man had no right being nine fucking inches long and thicker than anyone he’d had before. But V’s nothing if not determined, and his mouth’s practically salivating thinking bout how fuckin’ full he’ll feel with Johnny halfway down his throat.

The grip on his hair loosens into something softer, and V tilts his head to the side in confusion. It feels nice though, and it doesn’t take long for V to start to drift into a different sort of space. V doesn’t get like this often- all lost up in his head when someone puts him in his place. But it’s hard to stay in the moment with Johnny, ‘specially when he’s in a certain mood. V knows it’s cause they’re closer now, cause he trusts Johnny. Hell, V’s even taken to wearing Johnny dog tags for fucks sake- sleeping in his old samurai tank as well, just to feel closer to a corporal version of the rockerboy he’s caught feelings for.

“Hey now,” Johnny’s voice floats into the air in an uncharacteristically gentle way, but that doesn’t keep V from flinching when he feels the soft tap of a finger against his temple. “Gotta keep those eyes open for me, sweetheart.”

V inhales sharply through his nose and exhales slowly through parted lips. Something great swells inside his chest, puffing up on Johnny’s sweet words like a greedy balloon. He knows if Johnny keeps talking to him all nice, that balloon inside’s bound to pop. V’s already fucked in the head as it is, the last thing he needs is a busted heart too.

When V’s eyes open, he catches the ghost of a smile on Johnny’s lips. He swallows as he feels his cheeks start to heat up.

“Ah, you like that, don’t you. Wanna be my sweetheart?”

V’s eyes prickle with fresh tears, and suddenly the situation’s too much. Johnny’s voice is free of any signs of mockery, his words aren’t insults, his hands aren’t weapons… and it’s too fucking much. V can’t decide if he needs to pull away or push closer and give in to the care he so obviously craves.

‘Cause as much as he fights against it, his instincts are telling him that he’s safe in Johnny’s arms. That he  _ wants  _ to be Johnny’s sweetheart. That if they had met under different circumstances, maybe he would be. Fuck… if that didn’t make him a sap, he didn’t know what would. But thinking about ‘what-ifs’ didn’t do anything but force his heart to take a nosedive. 

So he shuts his eyes, letting the sound of his thumping heart calm him, bring him back to the present. An embarrassingly soft whine falls from his lips without his permission, and he leans into Johnny’s touch.

“Shit, V...” Johnny’s voice is still unbearably low, rumbling out of his mouth and turning V’s blood to honey. V can feel Johnny’s fingers in his hair, carding through it, working gently against stray knots. “You with me?”

V knows he ought to nod, but he’s still trying to come back down to his body from whatever space he had floated off into. He pulls back from Johnny’s hands, ducking his head away from the comforting touch. But he keeps his hands on Johnny’s thighs, and his eyes glued shut. They feel too wet beneath his lids, and he’s sure that if Johnny makes him open them again there’ll be nothing to stop the waterworks. Fuck, V’s gone too long without touch like this, without something soft in his life.

Jackie had been soft with him, before the stupid fuckin’ heist. They shared a room for a while, back when V had just come back to Night City after cutting his losses in Atlanta. Jackie was a fuckin’ bear to sleep with- he slept like the dead, snored louder than the motorcycle he drove, and wrapped his arms around whoever was in his bed. Their relationship never turned sexual, but that didn’t mean V didn’t hold those memories close to him.

With Johnny, the touch is different. He doesn’t feel like Jackie. But he does make V feel wanted in a way he wasn’t entirely used to. Sure, it’s not the first time he’s ever felt  _ wanted  _ in his twenty-two years. He’s been wanted plenty. But this felt more than the usual lust he expected back when he was still working the streets. It felt more than just something sexual. It was teetering off the edge, swaying from ‘just sex’ to ‘something more’ with a dangerous lack of coordination.

But right now it’s easier to tell himself a lie. Pretend like he doesn’t want that sorta care, doesn’t need it. This is just sex, a release, and nothing more. Dealing with a sting of dishonesty right now is better than being vulnerable. Fuck, anything was better than feeling vulnerable. V doesn’t wanna feel his emotions right now, he’s not gonna succumb to them. Not yet, and certainly not in front of Johnny. 

Johnny tilts his chin up. Their lips meet, and V hates himself for the warmth that blooms in his belly. V’s never known romantic love before, but this feels awfully close to what he suspects it might be. He knows that if he lets him continue, if he keeps enjoying it, he’ll just end up hating himself even more in the morning. So he reacts the only way he knows how- with violence. Sinking his teeth down into Johnny’s bottom lip, piercing through the skin. The mock taste of metal fills his mouth as Johnny recoils, and V opens his eyes just in time to expect the backhand he receives. His head snaps to the side regardless, Johnny’s knuckles bruising his cheek.

“Crazy fuckin’ cunt,” Johnny half-laughs as he grabs V’s jaw. “Being treated nice’s more of a punishment than gettin’ hit...” His voice is contemplative, but his grip is so hard that V’s sure his jaw’ll be black and blue tomorrow. Johnny pushes V’s face away from him, sending V tumbling. He falls onto his back with a grunt, taking a moment to pull himself together before propping himself up on his elbows. Johnny’s eyes rove over his body, and V spreads apart his legs to give him more of a show. “You’re fucked in the head, V.”

Mockery laces through Johnny’s words like the best type of poison, leaving V’s throat burning for more. His face burns bright as Johnny trails his fingers down the mark on his cheek, his metal fingers bringing cool relief to the sting. 

V bares his teeth. “Yeah, well what the fuck you think you’re doin’ to me?”

This is more like it. Johnny giving him exactly what he needs. V doesn’t want Johnny to be nice to him right now- he’s confused enough as is it. There’s enough shit going on in his life, V doesn’t wanna think when he’s in the bedroom. He wants Johnny to fuck him until he can’t walk, until all he can do is lie there and take it. And Johnny must know it, there’s no way he doesn’t. It’s all he’s got going on in his head, practically begging Johnny to treat him like he’s nothing, to pound into him until all he can process is the delicious dance of pain and pleasure that Johnny delivers unlike anyone else.  _ I don’t know how to be loved _ , V thinks.  _ Just use me instead. _

Johnny watches him, letting V squirm under his gaze as he looks at him with some degree of consideration. V’s close to running his mouth again when Johnny moves forward, getting on his knees between V’s spread legs. His hands grab V by the hips, roughly flipping him around. V’s breath hitches as Johnny straddles him, but the sound is met with a tongue cluck of distaste and his face being shoved against the floor.

“Fuckin’ daddy issues.” Johnny’s tone is too casual for what he’s doing, sounds more like he’s discussing the weather than getting ready to give V the railing of his life. But fuck, if V doesn’t love it- he’s so wet he’s sure his briefs are soaked through. “I know I’m right. Daddy didn’t love you enough, s’now you spread your legs for any man who gives you a second glance.”

Johnny’s words hit too close to home, striking through the crack in his armor and getting to his soft parts. 

“You don’t know  _ shit, _ ” V snarls, kicking his legs out in a vain attempt to hit Johnny back. His pants and briefs are ripped from him, and despite his efforts, Johnny traps his legs easily. Pressing them together and straddling the backs of his thighs to keep them in place. There’s a growl tumbling in V’s chest and anger filling up his mouth, but Johnny only chuckles. He grabs V’s hair once more, grinding his face into the floor when V tries to pull away.

Johnny pulls V’s hips up until he’s sticking out his ass properly, his thumb tracing the outline of V’s slit. V tries to press back against it, but it’s impossible with the position Johnny has him in. He grunts in frustration, and his ass is rewarded with a slap. 

“Nah, I know you, V. Just ‘nother dirt boy from Heywood. Saw a million of you when I was doin’ gigs, always saying they were goin’ places, moving up in the world.” Johnny snorts. “And always beggin’ to get railed.”

V groans, canting his hips backward to grind against Johnny’s clothed cock. He gets another slap, the force of it making him hiss. It’s not enough, though. V knows what he needs tonight- and he needs it more than the air he breathes. 

“Seriously? Talkin’ mad shit for someone who can’t gimme a proper hit.” He snorts, because even if his voice is shaky and he’s being held face-first on the floor, V’s always been great at playing cocky. “Should’ve just gone to a club. Bet the first guy I come ‘cross could do me harder th-“

Another slap cuts him off, this time hard enough to make him yelp. He feels wet on his cheeks, tears dribbling down in fat drops. He moans, nodding his head as much as he can in his limited position. This is what he’s been waiting for. 

“Here I was thinkin’ you were getting soft on me. Where’s all that ‘I wouldn’t fuck someone else’ bullshit now?”

V’s mouth flaps open like a fish outta water. It’s not the blow that stings, but Johnny’s words. He’s already crying, the lump in his throat too thick to force any words through. But Johnny’s not looking for an answer, and after the next slap lands, V isn’t looking for one either. V can’t tell how many times Johnny hits him before he hears the familiar  _ zip  _ of Johnny’s fly, and a finger pressing back against his slit.

“Wait,” Johnny pauses, moving his hand back to rest on V’s red thigh. V can’t see him, but the simple act of him  _ listening  _ is enough to make his heart slam up against his chest. “Just fuck me.” The words are heavy as they fall from his mouth, and he finds himself nodding his head like he’s trying to reassure Johnny. “Wanna feel the stretch, wanna feel you.”

The groan Johnny lets out is low and deep and so fuckin’ good that V presses his ass up by reflex alone, presenting himself. But Johnny has other ideas, pushing him up until he’s on his knees, his chest to the floor and his hands braced.

One stroke is all Johnny needs to fully fuck himself inside of V, hips pressing up against V’s ass and his cock so deep that V loses his breath. V doesn’t want Johnny to wait for him to adjust, even if it’s nearly painful. He wants it fast and now and rough. But Johnny doesn’t seem to care much for what V thinks he wants, at least not at the moment. Johnny grabs V’s with both hands, massaging them as he grinds himself up against the other man.

“Touch yourself.” Johnny’s voice is a growl in his ear, and V obeys the command instantly, settling his weight onto one shoulder while he shoves his other arm underneath himself, sliding his hand between his thighs.

He spreads open his folds with his index and ring finger, his middle circling the outline of his hard clit. He has to stop to take a deep breath, willing away the fire-hot throbs of pleasure that threaten to make him come before he’s properly fucked. Johnny pulls out slowly, waiting until his tip is kissing V’s slit before slamming back home. It punches the breath out of V once more, nearly knocking his lower half down with the sheer force of it. But Johnny thought ahead, tugging V’s hips back up and holding him in place perfectly. 

Johnny fucks him like this for what feels like hours, slow and deep- each thrust filling V up so well he can’t even speak. Wet drips down his thighs as Johnny picks up the pace, his rhythm becoming more and more erratic. It spurs on V’s fingers, jerking himself off faster and mouthing at the floor. His back arches into an impossible curve, his mouth open and panting against the floor. It’s fuckin’ filthy, he feels so goddamn filthy and so goddamn good and soon he feels nothing at all, his mind going white with stars as his orgasm takes over his body. 

“Look at you,” Johnny grunts, thrusting his fist into V’s hair and forcing him up onto his shaky arms. “So fuckin’ good sweetheart, so fuckin’ good for me,”

A sob lodged itself in V’s chest, his head still reeling from his climax. He tries to speak but nothing comes out, save for the pitchy whines he’s been making since he came. V feels Johnny come, feels his mouth pressed to the side of his face, breathing heavy and hot against his ear. 

“Fuck…” Johnny’s panting when he pulls out and V can’t find the energy to do much more than groan at the loss. He feels Johnny move, and grunts in discontent when he’s flipped over onto his back. Johnny’s chest is an open invitation- V knows this. But V doesn’t wanna touch Johnny right now. Not when he’s still covered in sweat and slick and his own come. It’s just his own, of course. Johnny’s not real, even if he plays a pretty damn convincing specter, so it makes sense that he couldn’t sweat or come. V wipes his forehead with a great deal of effort, flicking the sweat off his fingertips.

“Gonna shower.”

Johnny doesn’t respond, still laying on the ground with his hands behind his head. Minutes or years pass before V feels human enough to stand and face his temperamental showerhead. His apartment’s the nicest place he’s ever lived, but that doesn’t mean the water temperature always listens to him. V looks out of his bathroom to see Johnny still on the floor, stretched out and relaxed. Usually, Johnny pulls a disappearing act the second V glances away from him, but V’s noticed that he never poofs out of existence after they fuck. His stomach sinks and V wraps his arms around his abdomen to try and push away nausea that comes with it. 

He tips his head back, letting the water spray onto his face. His lips part, catching water in his mouth and swishing it around before spitting it down the drain. When V looks back to the floor, Johnny’s gone. He exhales, redresses, and shambles out of his apartment. He wasn’t gonna get any sleep tonight anyway- so fuck it. He’s got a city to burn.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed another dose of my self gratifying smut! Still haven't finished the game, though I'm on the last mission! I've just been going through all the side-quests before it ends, even though I know I'll probably end up replaying it 😛
> 
> I thrive off kudos/comments & I’d love to hear what you thought, even if it's just an emoji! ❤️


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